Flashback Fridays: Hair care and a broken coccyx

Kathleen and my mom at Yosemite, Summer 2004

The Summer after I graduated from college, my mom, sisters and I went on one of the most fun family vacations we have ever been on. We started off by joining the Young Women's on a Stake white water rafting trip. We had so much fun but it was just the start of our adventures! After our time was done with the Stake, we headed up north to Yosemite and were joined by Aria and her fiance (now husband) Tommy to camp for the rest of the week.

On the first day at Yosemite, we decided to go on a family bike ride along a beautiful meadow trail. To be honest, I had no desire to go in the first place as riding bikes make me nervous since I break my bones easily. However, everyone was so excited to start exploring and I didn't want to miss out. I got to ride my youngest brothers kid-sized bike and was finding it slightly uncomfortable on the bumpy trail. Suddenly, I went down a particularly bumpy slope and hit my hiney so hard on the seat that I broke my tailbone! I was in pain and very let down with the bad timing! Kathleen and I had been so inspired by our rafting guide's outdoorsy prowess that we were eager to tackle Yosemite with gusto; with a broken butt, I wouldn't be able to. In my anger I got off the stupid bike and chucked it across the trail. "Piece of CRAP," I roared in my fury! After my fit, I was embarrassed to see that everyone, including my soon-to-be brother in law had come back to make sure I was okay. I quickly made the situation worse by screaming at him to get out of there. After that, I wouldn't be surprised if Tommy wasn't too sure what he was getting himself into by joining the Vance family (sorry again, Tommy).

I ended up taking it very easy for the rest of the trip. Broken tailbones are not serious enough to end a vacation but it was enough to get me out of all of the camping chores and packing (if you are feeling especially lazy, I sort of recommend it). We still had a ball for the rest of the week lazing around our campsite. We had secured the most delightful spot right next to a river and spent the majority of our time splashing around and lapping up the summer sun. Kathleen and I had recently heard that the Indians from that area used to use sand to bathe with and since we were feeling at one with the land, we decided to do this too. For a week straight, we used nothing but sand/dirt to wash our hair. Add to that the constant campfire-smoke aroma and we were pretty fancy. However, we were enjoying ourselves so much that we didn't care and soon forgot about our image.

When it was time to make the long drive home, I realized that sitting on my rump for six hours was not going to work and we quickly stopped at the first store we came across. While my mom filled the van up with gas, Kathleen and I went inside the drugstore to find me some sort of cushion to protect my tender tush. After poking around for a while, we found a bin of little pillows that seemed fit the need. As we tried to decide which color I should get, two older women came up to us and oddly said, "Those are expensive pillows, you probably don't want one of them." We didn't understand their concern, especially since the pillows were only about ten dollars. Strange. It wasn't until we passed a reflection of ourselves on the way out that we understood. After a week of scrubbing our scalps with sand, we looked more like a homeless Medusa! And to think that I was smiling coyly at a couple cute firefighters just moments before!

In the end we decided on a little swimming floaty ring that did the trick perfectly. Not only did it make the ride home comfortable but I spent the rest of the Summer perched on it while I healed. I toted that bad boy on the crook of my arm everywhere I went (we women know that it is all about accessorizing, don't we?). When it came time to sit, I would place it lovingly on my chair, ease myself into it and proceed to make strange plastic squeaking sounds until my sitting time was over. This made quiet settings like church a little awkward. I even got yelled at once at a movie theater for being too noisy. Whoops! I wonder if they would have been so quick to bark at me if I still looked homeless? Maybe then they would have just handed me a dollar bill and kept their distance.